


Painless

by scholarlyspidey



Series: Writing Challenges [3]
Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man - All Media Types, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Medical Procedures, References to Drugs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-10
Updated: 2018-12-10
Packaged: 2019-09-14 16:12:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,913
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16916100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scholarlyspidey/pseuds/scholarlyspidey
Summary: Picking up Peter from the dental surgeon didn’t seem like a big deal when he originally agreed to it, but now he couldn’t be more wrong.





	Painless

As much as sped-up healing was one of the benefits to being Spider-man, Peter Parker couldn’t help but wish he could heal up at Wolverine speed, like, before Sunday speed. Because as quick as any cut could be healed, it was no match to an ailment even superheroes couldn’t avoid.   
  
Cavities, and bad ones too.   
  
Sure, Peter would drink a Coke or two, eat a Snickers here and there, but he never thought he was gorging himself. Yet here he was, a week before he needed to get his wisdom teeth out, all thanks to his stupid powers refusing to heal something smaller than a dime.  
  
It’s not really that he was nervous. He just couldn’t get over the idea of a surgery, on his _mouth_ , to take out his _teeth_. All the while he expected to be drugged to the gills, delirious enough to want to skip night patrol, and with the end of October coming up next week, he expected that he wouldn’t be able to answer the door for any of the trick-or-treaters in the apartment building.   
  
Everyone at school tried to calm him down about it, with Ned and MJ relaying their fun times on Percocet. Which, however hilarious, didn’t help him feel like there _wasn’t_ some impending doom awaiting him on Sunday.  
  
He knew it was some right of passage into adulthood to get his wisdom teeth out, but he’d rather let everything in his body stay in the exact place where it was. Mr. Stark had offered to pick him up after the procedure and let him rest at Stark Tower afterward.   
  
Peter jumped on the chance to go back to Stark Tower, but he never really saw a downside to the opportunity until it was far, _far_ too late.   
  
-  
  
Sunday had come and after being carted off to the surgeon by Aunt May, shortly followed by a deathly gripping hug, Peter was left alone with the doctor and his nurse.  
  
The doctor tried to make small talk about school while the nurse guided him to _the_ chair they'd be using for the sadistic procedure before putting a cannula in his nose, and a tight tourniquet around his left arm.   
  
As the needle plunged into his arm, the drugs felt like nothing, Peter thought he could talk to the doctor for _hours_ before anything would affect him.   
  
But boy was he wrong. Within moments, Peter conked out halfway through talking about what he was making for his science fair project.  
  
\-   
  
Waking up didn't feel very real. Everything in front of his face looked like blobs moving and mumbling words he couldn't understand. He remembered some parts of the surgery, but he heard everything the doctor had said. Peter had felt paralyzed and painless all at the once.   
  
As his sight cleared, Peter saw a young nurse looming over him and removing the IV from his arm, "You're so pretty," he said. The gauze in his mouth made the t's and pretty much half of what he said unintelligible, so he repeated himself, "You're _so_ pretty!"   
  
The nurse smiled, "Aw, thank you so much, sweetie." She reached over and began to help Peter into the wheelchair that must have magically appeared because it was _not_ there when he woke up. Maybe she was a witch? _Maybe she had superpowers_ , his thoughts yelled.  
  
He now stared in amazement as she wheeled him away, what were the odds that a superhero helped pull out his teeth?   
  
Apparently, she'd been talking to him the entire time, but he only picked up the last, "-get him from the waiting room," as she left Peter in a room with curtain walls that he was _not_ in five seconds ago, once again astounded at the nurse's powers.   
  
-  
  
Tony Stark didn’t know the proper protocol for this sort of thing. He’d known the kid a handful of months and here he was waiting in his Audi as a soccer mom waits in her minivan. He started tapping on the wheel as he listened to rock music in the background.  
  
His laptop and work were all but forgotten, he never knew when the doctors could be done. Tony had undergone a myriad of surgeries, but for some reason none of them were dental. Did they take an hour? Three hours? Hell if he knew.  
  
As his watch swung near the two-hour mark, he remembered that _he_ was Peter’s escort, the Responsible Adult meant to bring his drugged ass home safe and sound.  
Popping out of his car as quick as possible, he lightly jogged to the waiting room and hoped the kid hadn’t been waiting too long. A sigh escaped from the corner as he walked in. A nurse, in her early twenties, who looked like she’d been waiting for him for a lifetime asked, “Peter Parker’s guardian?”  
  
“Yes,” he answered.   
  
The speed of his response made Tony’s mind stumble, but before he could think about it, the nurse lightly tugged on his sleeve toward the recovery rooms.  
  
The nurse stopped in front of a blue curtain and faced him, “He’s on Percocet for the pain, and you can pick up the prescription from any pharmacy nearby with the doctor’s slip you’ll get when you check out. Also, his stitches are dissolvable, so don’t freak out if they fall out or anything.”  
  
She tore the curtain back to reveal a Peter Parker whose eyes were so glazed, Tony was mere seconds from making a Dunkin’ Donuts joke.   
  
“Hey, Mr. Stark!”  
  
The kid’s attempt at a hello was muffled at best, but regardless, he stepped into the room as the nurse shut the curtain behind him.  
  
“Hey, Pete, how you doin’?” He grabbed a nearby chair and sat next to him.  
  
As serious as ever, Peter turned to him, “Mr. Stark?”  
  
“Yeah?”  
  
“They took my teeth.”  
  
Tony was about two seconds from falling out of his chair.  
  
“I mean it is called a wisdom teeth remov-”  
  
“They took my teeth.” He repeated more intensely. The two had a stare down until something made Peter look away and he started mumbling whatever down to his hands.  
  
“What’s that, bud?”  
  
Peter held up his hands, “I’m counting.”  
  
At this point, Tony threw all notions of common conversation out the door and just went with it, “Well, why don’t you count in the car? I’m pretty sure there’s plenty of numbers there.”  
  
Peter’s face looked as if Tony had just discovered the theory of everything. Eyes widened, he nodded and let Tony help him up and out of the facility.   
  
“I could’ve done this whole thing at my lab in like, five minutes.” The engineer mumbled to himself.  
  
-  
  
Peter practically flung himself into the car as Mr. Stark leaned over and tried to… buckled him in? He knew he was high, but there was no way he was, unable-to-buckle-himself-in high. He pushed off the older man’s hands with a quick, “I _got_ it,” and after a grinding minute of attempts, Peter finally succeeded.  
  
Classic rock filled the car as Mr. Stark began driving. The end of a random song finished up and as Peter looked up to see the next song, _Bohemian Rhapsody_ started and he loudly followed Freddie Mercury’s, “Is this the real life?”  
  
Tony immediately slammed the off button for the radio, “Nope, not happening, you are not gonna pull your stitches within five minutes of being under my supervision.”  
  
But none of it got through to him, he was still dramatically playing the finger piano and trying to sing any lyrics he could remember. At some point, the song morphed into _Killer Queen_  and then an _Another One Bites the Dust_  cover that sounded more like Peter trying to impersonate the bassline from the song.  
  
He was about 99.8% sure he’d gone through most of Queen’s discography by the time they got to Stark Tower.  
  
-  
  
Tony was about 99.8% sure Peter had no idea that they had arrived at Stark Tower in about ten minutes and had sung roughly a second or two of some songs that definitely weren’t all Queen.  
  
Tony got out of the car and made his way over to the passenger side and unbuckled Peter so he wouldn’t just sit in the car for hours on end without realizing.  
  
As the two entered the elevator, he was also starting to see the benefit to child leashes when the kid thought it would be fun to push _every_ floor button in one fell swoop.  
After the near hour-long ‘hell-evator’ ride, as it would forever be known, Tony guided Peter to the couch and turned on a random horror marathon before heading to the fridge to find something to drink.  
  
Watching this kid was like watching a newborn, _everything_ around him was dangerous. He kept looking over his shoulder to be sure Peter hadn’t managed to strangle himself in the surrounding blankets, yet. Walking back over to where the barely conscious boy was, Tony lined up the water bottles like bowling pins in front of Peter.   
  
“Drink,” he waved his hands over the rows, “ _all_ of this.”  
  
He headed to his bedroom to change into comfier clothing, but on his way, large fumbling noises echoed down the hall. Stopping mid-step, Tony couldn’t help but wonder all of the horrible wrongs that happened in the under five minutes that happened.   
  
Entering the living room again, it looked like Black Friday shoppers had somehow managed to sneak in and ravage the place.  
  
“Kid?” He called.  
  
Peaking out from the overturned couch, Peter made a quick ‘get over here’ hand signal, and Tony was starting to feel his heart rate pick up a little more than it should.  
  
Crouching down, he made his way over to Peter, “What’s wrong?” The worry was practically overriding his mind, all he could think about was what worst-case scenario could happen in under five minutes.  
  
The teen leaned in close and stage-whispered, “He had a chainsaw! Did you see that?”  
  
“Who? Who had a chainsaw?”  
  
“He was right there, and he had it, and that poor girl,” he continued as if Tony wasn’t even there.  
  
Suddenly the loud sound of a chainsaw revving blasted its way around the room, only there was something off about it, like the sound wasn’t really there. Eyes scanning over the cushions, his attention was brought back by the sound again and then Tony realized, this kid and Percocet did _not_ mix well.  
  
Looking at the TV a few feet away, he noticed he’d left on the _Friday_ _the 13th_ marathon one of the channels was running and looked back to Peter, “Anyone ever tell you you’re a lightweight?”  
  
He still seemed stressed out by the non-existent serial killer in the tower and continued to whisper at a normal speaking volume, “I could use my web shooters.”  
  
Tony got up and began putting back the furniture as Peter stayed planted on the floor, saying something that the gauze mumbled.   
  
Moving the couch and the other furniture took more out on his back than it did on the clock. Plopping down on the far end of the couch, he let out a deep breath and relaxed his head against the pillows.  
  
Feeling something shift his shoulder, Tony peaked his right eye open, looking down at a mop of brown curls a few inches away from his nose.  
  
“I’m gonna sleep, Mr. Stark.” He muttered.  
  
“You do that kid,” Tony responded back in exhaustion, “you do that.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> From @beautiful-holland ‘s writing challenge prompt on Tumblr, “He had a chainsaw! Did you see that?” This entire thing may or may not be based on my experience with dental surgery…


End file.
